Amberlyn's Incident
by EmeraldGiana
Summary: Inspired by The Other Boleyn Girl, I was assigned to write this story in English class. Its the same setting and the same characters. Its a subplot with one of the maids falling in love with William Carey Mary Boleyn's husband . Tell me what you think!


_Amberlyn's Incident_

Hannah Woolley

I lifted the bunched up sheets to my small nose. Sniffing tentatively, the unmistakable odor of sweat mixed with an aphrodisiac perfume was squeezed out of the cream colored linens and into my nostrils. _I knew it_, I thought contemptuously to myself. This was one of the many times that Mary Boleyn had slithered into bed with King Henry. The whole thing was wrong in my eyes. Poor William Carey had been deserted by his wife simply because her bosom had caught the eye of King Henry the VIII. But William wasn't the only one who suffered from this corrupt affair. The sweet Queen Katharine had also taken a few blows from the courtship. She had not been the same since that first night. Nearly everyone in the castle could hear Mary's screams of desire echoing from the bed chamber off the cold stone walls. The Queens face had lost its color, no matter how much rouge she had me apply to her hollow cheeks. The wise and inquisitive spark was also absent from her eyes. Through all of that, what was a lowly chamber maid to do? The only words I speak to the king and queen are "yes" and "your-highness."

The crisp clap of riding boots on stone roused me from my daydream. I clumsily started collecting the rest of the bed-linens into my scrawny arms. The king entered the bedchamber in a flourish of leather and fine cloth. His golden locks shook as he swiftly strode across the room to the other side of the bed. Grunting softly, he bent down to the floor so that I could not see him. He rose back up to his full height, his leather riding gear squeaking. In his large hand, he delicately held a pocket handkerchief. I watched him study it as if it were a rare and beautiful flower. He ran the soft cloth through his fingers, then crumpled it up and sniffed it delicately. His long lashes interlaced as his eyes closed, and let out an inaudible breath of desire. The monogram MB was peeking out between the fingers of his clenched fist.

The king's great head turned sharply on its thick neck. A pair of dark brown eyes was suddenly fixed on me.

"Get back to work!" he barked loudly. I jumped, murmured a quick "yes, your highness", and finished stripping the bed. With a swish of his cloak, the king was gone, but his looming presence still lingered in the sun-lit chamber. I shivered once more before exiting.

I could hear the king's footsteps dying away down the corridor as I made my way to the laundry. Images of scandalous actions taking place on the very sheets I was holding swirled in my mind. I looked up and Mary Boleyn herself was walking up the hall towards me. She was wringing her pale hands furiously; a nervous look covered her pretty face. She glanced up at me; I quickly curtsied to my superior as she passed.

Months passed. Mary Boleyn skipped a course and her belly steadily swelled. Tension sparked in the air like electricity in the anticipation of the possible heir to the English throne. All the servants could talk about was how Mary Boleyn was carrying the king's bastard. Eventually the activity died down, and Mary was locked away in a bed chamber until she gave birth. William Carey sulked around the palace. Whenever he was around the king, he put on a mask of happiness and contentment, but I could see right through into his troubled soul.

William had been abandoned by his wife so that she could crawl into the king's bed. Now, he had been paid off by the king with a knighthood and a doubled income. In my mind, it is an insult to the great man. His wife's lover pays him off for letting him turn his wife into a whore. All of these thoughts swirled about in my mind like the dishwater my hands were currently submerged in. It was late at night, after almost everyone was in bed. I had owed Margret a favor, and had been assigned extra dishes that night. I brushed a lock of wavy dark hair from my face with my elbow. My apron was soaked with wine and water, and my feet ached from endless work.

The door to the kitchen behind me squeaked open and was shut as I turned around to see who had come into the kitchen at this ungodly hour. There, standing breathless and jostled in just his shirt, pants and riding boots, was William Carey. I gripped the wash basing tightly and gulped.

"Oh! Excuse me! I didn't know anybody was here...er...you see I just came down for a bite to eat...um...sorry to bother you...er..." he trailed off, not knowing what to say. Remembering my place, I looked at the floor and went straight to the pantry for some cheese and bread. My hands were trembling as I fumbled with a hunk of cheese and a small loaf of bread. I turned to go back, but I was met with the neck-laces of his shirt instead. He had silently stepped into place behind me and I was now faced with the small black hairs just visible above his shirt. My mouth gaped open and shut like a fish. I slowly raised my eyes to meet his and he smiled.

"Thank you, Amberlyn." he said in a warm gravely voice. I parted my full lips, but struggled with the words.

"O-of course." I stammered. William's breath was hot on my face, turning my cheeks from merely rose to bright crimson. He reached down and cupped my hand that held the cheese and raised it to my shoulder level. Breaking off a small piece, he popped it in his mouth and chewed softly, all the while with a sultry smile in his eyes. I stood stunned, not able to move or speak for fear this glorious moment would end.

I blinked twice, but alas one too many. He was out the door in a flash, only his scent of lye soap and linseed oil still in the room. My hand flew to my fluttering chest. Turning back to the sink and disposing of the uneaten food, my mind tried to recount the heavenly moment that had just taken place. _Had William Carey been here jut a second ago, _holding my hand_?! How did he know my name? Why was he so kind and gentle towards me?_ These questions and more were being rustled around my brain like leaves on a windy autumn day. Still stunned by the incident, I slowly made my way back to my bunk. I quickly undressed, plaited my hair, and promptly fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

For the months that followed, I saw William Carey more and more frequently. Every time I passed, I thought I saw him wink at me, but I convinced myself it was just my imagination. At first, I felt strange and squeamish at the thought of William Cary staring at me when I wasn't looking, but after a while, I grew to enjoy the attention. I would look around more often to see if his deep brown eyes were watching me. To my delight, they were most of the time. I wanted to address him, but decided against it. If a servant strayed from her place in society, the utmost consequences were taken into immediate effect.

I had an armload of the queens linens (soiled crimson despite the king' valiant efforts to conceive a son) and was on my way to wash them, when none other than William Carey came around the corner, nearly toppling me over. His strong, swift hands caught me before I fell onto the stone floor. I had dropped my pile of dirty sheets and they were lying on the floor like a collapsed ghost that had been doused in cream. William's hands had caught me just in time. His hands were on my lower and upper back. His face was mere inches from mine. My own 

hand rested on his arm. Time seemed to hang, suspended, in the small amount of air that rested between our faces. My eyes were locked unswerving on his.

"A thousand pardons, are you all right Amberlyn?" My mouth went dry.

"Yes, thank you sir." I croaked. The hint of a playful smile glittered on his full, red lips.

"Excellent," he cooed softly, "now quickly, follow me." I had no choice but to follow him, his warm hand held mine in a firm grip. He led me through the torch-lit corridors and out into the moonlit garden. An owl hooted at me, warning me to remember my place, and his. William whirled me around, and I sank gratefully onto a stone bench. I looked up, genuinely stunned. The gold thread in his dark green tunic glowed eerily in the moonlight. If this was any other man, I would have run away screaming for help, but this was William Carey, and my desire kept me rooted to the spot.

"I-I've been meaning to approach you for a while now," he began, "and I know that we could both be banished for doing something like this, but..." When he said that, a chill ran down my spine. I had always expected William Carey to be a respectable and polite. Now, with him standing above me, the two of us completely alone in the middle of the night, the whole scene was cast in a different light before me. He stepped closer and my muscles tightened.

"What are you implying?" I asked cautiously. I shifted on my cold seat, glancing around for an escape route. He crept towards me, ever nearer.

"Oh, nothing. I know you've been pining for me for a while now, and well, I've been so lonely with out my dear Mary, so..." My mouth gaped open. How could he say such things! Was he implying that I was some sort of whore?!

"'So...' what?" I implored, eager yet slightly scared of what he would say next. He swallowed his words for a moment and tried to advance upon me. He grabbed my waist awkwardly, and started moving his hands up and down my torso.

"What in God's name are you doing?!" I shrieked. William's breathe quickened and his eyes began to explore my body in a sickly and unappealing manner. I began to struggle. He was much stronger than I was. My hands fumbled around behind me, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon of defense. I slipped, and found my self lying on the bench but my feet still on the ground. He lowered himself over me, stinking heavily of ale. William breathed 

heavily in my face as his thick fingers stroked my neck. This was too much, I couldn't take it anymore.

Firmly grasping a large rock that rested beneath the bench, I swung it up and cracked it upon the back of his head. With a defeated groan, his large head collapsed onto my chest. I tried to wriggle out from under his heavy body. I succeeded in rolling off the stone bench and onto the gravel beneath me. I lay there in the dark, surrounded by the cool garden.

The tears came without warning. My shoulders shook uncontrollably with heavy sobs. My eyes were like fountains, with an endless stream of tears gushing out. I lay there for a long time. I couldn't bring myself to rise. The one man I had ever hoped to love had turned into a monster right before my very eyes. _How could this happen_, I thought to myself. When my tears had stopped flowing and my body stopped shaking, I got up. Slowly making my way back to my room, I held my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out into the dark empty castle.


End file.
